


maybe that wasn't nothing at all

by smlltlks



Series: i don't mind the rain [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Development, Childhood Memories, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Freedom, M/M, Modern Setting, Plans For The Future, Post-Canon, Post-War, Swimming Pools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smlltlks/pseuds/smlltlks
Summary: Draco signs up for a swim team, which brings back memories; Harry finds it amusing.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: i don't mind the rain [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835137
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	maybe that wasn't nothing at all

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this work is a part of a series! All works in this series can be read as stand-alones, but for a better experience, feel free to check the others first :3
> 
> This one's also very Draco-centric, and it's basically just an excuse for me to write about swimming.

One week after moving into the Birmingham apartment, Draco joined a swim team.

Harry teased him about it endlessly. _“I thought that was ridiculous?”_ he had asked, grinning like a madman. Draco, being Draco, had denied ever saying such a thing. But deep down he only did so because he was yet to find the words to express his thanks for the idea, and he was also still fighting himself over being a coward – because saying _“thank you for suggesting it, I think I really needed something like this”_ was a lot harder than one might think, and Draco thought not saying it at all was the easier way out. He’d get around to it, eventually.

He was settling into his box in the sky well, and it really showed. According to Harry, he smiled a lot more, even when no one was looking, and even though he still spoke very little. Besides that, he had purchased three plants – one for his bedroom, to go on the desk he also bought at the strange _IKEA_ store, which had turned out to be the largest store he had ever been to. He also bought one for the kitchen counter and a third, much larger one, for the balcony. It was a small tree. The clerk had assured him it would never grow higher than 180cm, and Draco had slammed down the money without asking another question. Well. That’s what he was ready to do. He did, in fact, ask a couple more questions in order to ensure that the lovely thing (which he had named _Blaise_ , after his former friend) would have access to enough water and sunlight.  
Every night before he went to bed, even on the nights where going to bed was something that happened at 4am, Draco Malfoy watered his plants. The other two had names too. The kitchen-counter plant (which he couldn’t identify in any plant book) was named _Louise_ , and the one in his bedroom (a _Chinese Evergreen_ ) held the ridiculous title of _Sir Oliver Bartholomew Javier Augustus Malfoy the 3 rd_. That was the name of one of his long-dead relatives, who had been kicked out of the family and deleted from almost all records after he gave up the magical life to be with what was not only a muggle, but a male one. He was also known as Draco’s favourite relative, except that no one apart from Harry _actually_ knew about him, and Harry only knew because he had requested the story behind the awfully long choice of name.

Lovely as his new plants were, he wouldn’t be spending any Thursday or Saturday nights with them from now on. Draco recalled one of the points Harry had made when they first brought up the idea of moving: _“you just need books, tea, a stable internet connection, and a pool within a 5 mile radius”_. By now, the whole conversation felt ancient and far away, but in reality it had only been just over month. Harry wasn’t wrong. Here, in his beautiful box in the sky, Draco had all of these things. Besides, he also had plants, and and a roommate that he didn’t hate, which was most definitely an understatement, but simultaneously also the most he was willing to admit at this moment.

 _A pool within a 5 mile radius_. Much to his joy, the city’s olympic sized swimming pool was home to not only the University of Birmingham’s official swim club, but also a secondary team open to non-students. He had jumped on the opportunity, especially after Harry had explained that he could easily get there using public transport. And so, Draco had gotten himself a “ _swift”_ metro card and a membership at the pool. He could train alone or with the team – though, when it was time for the team’s official training, the pool was only 25m in length. If he went in alone in the early mornings or late evenings he could use the full 50m pool (especially since few people actually went there during those times). It was a nice way to add routine to his life. Something to calm his mind and body; something regular. At least that was the plan.

Harry came with him on the first day – a Tuesday, on which the full 50m were open to individual swimmers after 7pm. It wasn’t the pool itself that posed the first challenge of the early evening; it was the journey the two men took to get there. Metro systems were a fine muggle invention, but sadly they were horrible in practice, especially at 7.30pm when every single carriage was packed to the brim with sweaty men and women in suits, kids screaming for their dinner and a bed to sleep in, and students either heading out for the night, or back to their accommodation. The two were technically the same age as most of the Uni students, and would have blended in well. If Draco was a muggle he would most certainly apply for University and try to broaden his horizons, but knowing he was a wizard, and one that was looked down upon for the choices people had either made for him or pushed him to make on top of that, applying for muggle University seemed somewhat pointless. Honestly, if he thought about it – which was hard while fifteen people were pushing him against the side of the train – there weren’t many plans he could make for his future. The lack of plans didn’t worry him, but the fact that he barely knew where he would start even _if_ he ever chose to make a plan did. He had nothing apart from a membership at a nearby olympic sized pool and some plants in his box in the sky. Maybe that wasn’t nothing at all.

“Is it always this busy?” Draco asked his companion, trying hard not to breathe in through his nose because the man closest to him _reeked_ of a full day’s sweat and clearly didn’t know anything about deodorant. It was nauseating.

“I am afraid I don’t know, Draco.” Harry retorted. “I just moved here.”  
The cabin shook and pushed them into each other awkwardly as it rushed around a sharp corner.

They entered the pool at 8pm, hoping it’d be a little less packed. Much to Draco’s satisfaction, the whole building was indeed rather empty. The gym, located on the same grounds but in a different area, had looked beyond full as he walked past. It was easy to assume that many students and adults that lived nearby or on campus would go there for late-night or after-class workouts. Swimming didn’t seem as popular. Perhaps the students who did enjoy swimming would join the swim club to swim during regulated times, and non-students came here at more friendly times or visited other pools. Either way, Draco was granted an almost free choice of lanes, and settled into the furthest one down happily, after a shower.

Cool water soon engulfed him, washing away any worries he had harboured both consciously and unknowingly. He took great joy in watching as small ripples formed, left him, and disappeared again each time he dragged his arms through the wave-less surface. In water, Draco was in full control.  
The ripples reminded him a little of his magic – a calm pool at his core, from which he could draw power whenever he needed it. With clean, smooth strides, Draco made his way along the lane, soon leaving behind one end in favour of its rival. Each time his hands re-entered the water and were met with weak but distinct resistance, Draco remembered how much he had loved the summers he spent by the lake nearby his family’s summer residence. No one had ever been there with them, apart from house elves and the occasional childless relative, so Draco had spent the days entertaining himself in the water. It made the heat more bearable, and took his mind off everything else. Even years later, when he had already enrolled in Hogwarts, a swim at the end of a summer day would distract him from his parents – from his life – until he felt like a young boy again. He’d imagine the creatures watching him from below, or pretend he knew how to bend the liquid at will. Surprisingly, there weren’t many spells to do with water. The closest thing to magic revolving around water or liquids that Draco had found so far had been the potions lessons, though of course they compared in absolutely no way to the floating, feathery feelings of absolute and unquestionable freedom that he felt when swimming.

He moved with the water, and the water moved with him.  
The pool closed at 10pm, so that’s when Draco left.


End file.
